


eternal flame

by boa_bec



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Friendship, Hell, Origin Story, Other, Sex Work, Sexual Content, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boa_bec/pseuds/boa_bec
Summary: a glimpse into angel's life a few decades before the happy hotel.
Relationships: Angel Dust & Cherri Bomb (Hazbin Hotel)
Kudos: 7





	eternal flame

**Author's Note:**

> hbd angel!! 🎉🎉🎉 i wanted 2 write something so heres a lil drabble about how angel and cherri met!

The year is 1987.

Your sister dies only a few years after you. Ambushed by a wannabe gang of thugs, three bullets to the skull before she knew what hit her. By the time Molly made it down to Hell, you were still rooming with Henroin - and it was not by choice.

Suffice it to say, you and your old man did not exactly get along way back when - between you being a _fucking queer_ and a _slut-for-hire_ and ditching the family business before your twenties were over, he was just as happy to see you in the afterlife as you were to see him. Still, loath as he is to admit it, your proficiency wit anything that shoots was still useful to him, so he threw you in the basement and told you not to make too much noise. A sorry state of affairs, but still an improvement from being a homeless bum - and he barely even bothered you about whoring for cash as long as you didn't bring any guys back to his place! 

You did see it as a win at first, but when it came to your actual job? You tired of that old bag of dicks telling you what to do real fast. And after a particularly harsh screaming match took a south turn, you were sent on your way with an arm full of bullet holes and your little sister in tow.

Molly, diligent little lady she was, managed to get on her feet not long after. You, on the other hand...well, you've always been considered the useless one, haven't you? You hated to intrude, to take advantage of Molly's unwavering kindness, but she forced you to stay with her until you could figure things out.

After twenty years being dead, you finally set out on your own - and it isn't easy. Sure you have money coming in, but you don't make enough sucking sleazy old dudes off to afford anything nicer than a cheap old apartment that's practically falling apart. You've started slipping - to the point that you're ignoring Molly's calls, barely listening when she begs you to come home when she hears how you have to choose between eating and paying rent. You're in Hell, on your own now, and you can't afford to let anybody coddle you. Not even Molls.

And then... _that fateful night..._

The year is 1987. It's been 40 years since you bought the farm, and 11 years since you started working for ol' Vee. Valentino hasn't been in Hell as long as you have, but when it comes to success the overlord tops you (and most other measly sinners) by a long shot. Owner of porn studios, producer of the most drooled-over erotic films, king of the porn industry in Hell. It's pure coincidence, really. If you knew that _his Highness Valentino, the overlord_ would be in the audience that night, you're ashamed to admit that you likely would have chickened out and cancelled. But you didn't, and something about the way you worked that pole caught his eye - and Mr. Vee made you an offer.

An offer you couldn't refuse.

You can only imagine the look on your sniveling shitbag sucker of a dad's face when your face ends up on every billboard, every magazine, every single fetish clip starring you. Anthony. The crackhead, the good-for-nothing, the fuck-up. And now, the star. Now the face every guy (and hell, even some gals) wanted to blow their load on. Beloved by all! And all it cost was your eternal soul.

Not once do you dream of kissing your high lifestyle goodbye, but it does come with its drawbacks. Being cooped up in Val's studio all day long, directors shouting _strike a pose and stick your tongue out and put it in your mouth and bend over, whore_ \- it all gets tiring. And oh, what you wouldn't do for just a little bit of freedom... just some _fun_ , once in a while...

Like an angel (and not the spear-weilding, demon-butchering kind) sent from above, it comes to you one day. One of Valentino's assistants (Felicia or Fiona or whatever her name is, you forget) is doing your makeup just before a photoshoot when an ear-bursting explosion sounds from outside the studio. Even from where you are, it leaves your nonexistent ears ringing, and both you and Flora look towards the source. Val is nowhere to be seen, but his security thugs order you around - _keep Angel inside, studio's under attack!_

You fully intend to obey, at least as first. As much as you despise anyone other than Val telling you what to do, you're smart enough to know your boss is gonna be pissed if you risk getting hurt for a little adrenaline rush. All you want to do was get a little eyeful of the action, that's all! So you loiter by the balcony, taking a drag from your cigarette every now and then, mismatched eyes fixed on the scene below.

Cherry reds and pinks explode before you, the glitter catching your eyes. Through flashes of light and thick clouds of smoke, a lithe form catches your eyes. Strawberry blonde hair is blown back, and from your position you can see the cyclops demon bear a wicked grin as she dives beneath blasts aimed at taking her head off.

Your eyes practically sparkle. _Now **that's** a broad who knows how to party!_ Despite the urge to jump off the balcony and blow things to smithereens right alongside her, you're able to rub two braincells together and realize that will only end in disaster (and not the good kind).

"Hey! One-eye wonder down there!" You shout instead, drawing the demons attention for a moment. " _Sick_ moves! Ya gotta teach me sometime!" You cackle to yourself, before the hunk swinging at blondie's head screams at you to get back the fuck inside.

* * *

Thankfully, what damage the crazy broad did to the studio is quickly repaired. Days later, you're still curious as to who she is - but there isn't much you can do but hope she drops by again.

It's one evening after work that a familiar burst of pinkish-red catches your attention. Your typical work night boredom effectively vanquished, you take a detour and head towards the source of the chaos, grinning like the cat who got the cream.

A haughty-looking serpent demon in a tacky suit and even tackier hat aims some sort of contraption at the younger sinner, and after a few moments of staring you realize it's a ray gun. You whip out a gun of your own, and another for your second pair of arms. "Hey!" It's only then that Scales notices your presence, but by then it's too late. "Guess who, bitch?!" With a storm of raucous laughter, you fire, blasting straight through any of those measly little eggs that get in your ways as you shoot the wannabe cartoon villain full of holes. "Angel Dust! That's fuckin' who!"

You fire again, only to realize you're out of ammo. With a chuckle of pride, you twirl your weapon towards your lips and blow the still-smoking tip. "And don'tcha forget it, babe~"

You've completely forgotten One-Eye's presence, but are reminded she's standing right there when someone taps your arm. You twist your head and sneer down at her; she looks about ready to burst, her one eye gleaming like it's brimming with stars.

" _Dude!_ That... was... fuckin' _awesome_!"


End file.
